


Ooh, Loverboy (What're You Doin' Tonight?)

by thegreatestsun



Category: DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Kon has his punk design idc about timelines it's what he deserves, M/M, Nightmares, Self-Esteem Issues, Tim really loves Kon so much dude, Title from a Queen Song, soft boyfriends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:54:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25039579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegreatestsun/pseuds/thegreatestsun
Summary: “You don’t get goosebumps.” Tim muttered quietly, into the mess of his hair. Kon made a non-committal noise into the skin of Tim’s neck, and Tim could feel him fighting the urge to cling. Tim knew where his mind was – it was somewhere in between the nightmare that’d had him shaking and groaning under his breath until he’d woken up, dragging Tim to full consciousness with him.“Normally, when people are afraid, they’re covered in ‘em.” Tim continued, smoothing his hand over Kon’s back, fabric of his t-shirt riding up slightly. “But you’re still all smooth.”---Kon has a nightmare. Tim is struck by how much he adores Kon.
Relationships: Tim Drake/Kon-El | Conner Kent
Comments: 26
Kudos: 196





	Ooh, Loverboy (What're You Doin' Tonight?)

**Author's Note:**

> hi hello welcome to 'i got really soft and kinda poetic late at night so i wrote a oneshot' timkon edition. 
> 
> i just,, i really love these boys,,, man,,,,,,,,

“You don’t get goosebumps.” Tim muttered quietly, into the mess of his hair. Kon made a non-committal noise into the skin of Tim’s neck, and Tim could feel him fighting the urge to cling. Tim knew where his mind was – it was somewhere in between the nightmare that’d had him shaking and groaning under his breath until he’d woken up, dragging Tim to full consciousness with him.

“Normally, when people are afraid, they’re covered in ‘em.” Tim continued, smoothing his hand over Kon’s back, fabric of his t-shirt riding up slightly. “But you’re still all smooth.”

“Tim.” Kon mumbled to his boyfriend, voice muffled by pressing his face to Tim’s shoulder. “That’s really fucking weird.”

Tim smiled. If Kon was able to point out his weirdness, he was okay. Okay enough that he wouldn’t feel like he was drowning. Tim ran his hand through Kon’s hair, curls wrapping around his long fingers as he played with them gently. Tim felt some of the terror that still rested in his boyfriend’s chest start to bleed out of him. Leaving his body with every deep breath like smoke leaving a candle. “Yeah, but it’s weird that you don’t get them.”

“Probably not important enough to include.” Kon muttered, his grip on Tim’s waist tightening slightly before it relaxed back to the almost nothing touch Tim recognised only when Kon was afraid. Afraid of whatever terrible, terrible lie his mind had made up and convinced him of, afraid of a memory a nightmare had dragged to the forefront, like pulling scum from the bottom of a lake so it could rest on the surface like a stain, afraid of Tim, afraid of _himself_.

Tim wished he could just… put Kon in front of a mirror. He wished he could just show him all the things he adored about him, so that Kon could see it too. It wasn’t like he _didn’t_ , Tim knew that some of Kon’s confidence was genuine, but it was more…

He ran his hand down Kon’s sides, and felt Kon shudder, and felt the puff of air against his neck as Kon sighed. Kon was afraid. Afraid of a lot of things. But Tim was noticing that he was more often than not afraid of himself. Which – which Tim understood. Even as Kon shivered in Tim’s hold, and made a soft noise when Tim tangled their legs together, he was – god. He was near-indescribable. In his arms, Tim held a boy like the sun.

He desperately wanted his sun to shine again.

Nights like these weren’t unfamiliar to either of them. Tim had tried to count the amount of times he’d clung to Kon as it felt like there was a hole in his chest and his mind had been nothing more than an endless spiral of hatred at himself, at his very _being_ – but he lost count somewhere after three.

Kon didn’t deserve to feel like that.

If Tim had endless time and focus, he wouldn’t be able to write down everything good about Conner Kent. There was just too much.

He realised Kon had gone silent, and when he looked down at those eyes – _Christ_ , those _eyes._ It was if the sky and the ocean were made of glass and had shattered, shards coming together to make Kon’s eyes. Tim felt like he could stab himself on that gaze, most days – what little Tim could see of them were unfocused, and watching something that wasn’t the dark shadows of Tim’s room. _Their_ room, really.

“Hey.” Tim said, his voice as soft as he could make it. “Where are you right now?” he asked, trailing his hands across his boyfriend. Featherlight touches against his ribs, a palm open against the small of his back, twisting the curls of his hair between his fingers – Kon was so _real_ sometimes that it hurt.

The silence was heavy, and Tim felt it pressing around his heart, squeezing his lungs. He could feel Kon’s slowing heartbeat if he pressed a hand to his chest, could see it in the pulse in his neck in the half-light from the city spilling in through the window. He was there – there with him, but not quite, not _quite_ –

“With you.” Kon said, voice small in what felt like the giant black expanse of their room. “I’m here.” He muttered, hands resting open-palmed against Tim’s back. Kon tended to drift, when he was like this. Floated away like he would when he relaxed in the sky, wind coaxing him in a thousand directions. But Tim knew, the thought stored somewhere behind his ribs, that Kon would always fly back.

“Where _were_ you, then?” don’t stop touching him, remind him he’s here. Remind him he’s in a bed, surrounded by softness and the comforting dark, warm and dry, not where there were fluorescent lights and broken glass and air too sharp to breathe after tubes and liquid that still clung to him like a second skin.

“…tube.” Kon managed, before his hold tightened again, then relaxed. His fingers twitched, and Tim could feel it against his bare skin. “It – did I tell you it was quiet?”

Tim was silent. Every time this happened – his picture of Kon’s first real look at anything, at the world, the first time he blinked slime out of his eyes and _stared_ became clearer and clearer. He smoothed a hand over the back of Kon’s head, the shaved part, as a silent encouragement to continue.

“It – it was so quiet.” Kon mumbled. He shook, slightly, and Tim wanted to smooth it away. He settled for rubbing circles into where Kon’s hip met his stomach with his thumb. “I – I didn’t hear anything, at first. Because – you know. Uh. My ears were still full of that gunk. And – and.” Kon shuddered slightly, and Tim felt a sudden wetness against his shoulder.

Kon was still hiding his face, afraid to look up at Tim (afraid he’d be against him, bored of him, tired of him) so Tim _didn’t_ tilt his face to shower him in kisses, to show him it was all okay, to bring his boy back from a howling storm to a calm sea. He wanted to – _desperately_ wanted to. But Kon didn’t need that right now. He found the corner of Kon’s eye, and smoothed away a tear, instead.

Kon simply breathed against him, for a while, before swallowing, and carrying on.

“The – um. The first thing I heard was glass.” He murmured, and Tim could picture it. He could picture Kon staring at the ground, at a metal floor, as shards of glass fell around him, showering him like rain. Tim wondered, if Kon’s skin could be marked, would it show that? Would there be a river of a scar against his hands? An ocean of smaller ones against his back?

“It hurt my ears. Because – because I could hear everything. Everything was so _loud_. And the – the glass against metal was so high and it _hurt_.” His voice caught on the last word, and Tim could tell he was choking. Choking on his words, his tears, the breath in his lungs.

Tim barely felt his hand move up to Kon’s ear. He traced the small studs around the shell of it, the metal warm from Kon’s body. When _wasn’t_ Kon warm? Even when he felt like he was breaking apart, shattering in a way that let the bitterly cold wind of all the bad things blow through him, Kon was _warm_. Warm to the touch, warm soul and heart all burning through him so brightly and comfortingly Tim often wondered how he didn’t get burnt every time Kon kissed him.

“I wonder, sometimes.” Tim said, the hint of a smile pulling at his mouth and bleeding into his voice. Sometimes when Kon was so wound up, so close to just shattering and breaking, Tim needed to pull him down slowly. “What the first song you heard was.”

Kon paused. “I…” he hummed quietly. A tune Tim could remember, lost somewhere in his head. “I’ve forgotten the name. I remember the lyrics. It’s about love, I think.”

“What song isn’t?” Tim joked, feeling his heart leap as Kon exhaled heavily, and Tim felt the mouth against his collarbone stretch slightly. He was smiling. God, it’d only been gone for less than an hour, but Tim had missed it like he would miss one of his own damn _limbs._

“Yeah. It was happy sounding, but it always felt a little sad to me? Like…” he trailed off, before clearing his throat slightly. Tim felt his heart swell, and the butterflies he thought he’d released long ago start a dance in his stomach. Kon’s voice was a blessing to Tim, it was just _nice_. It was smooth and steady and when he spoke to Tim in his darker moments, he let it wash over him like a wave on the sand.

“ _I can dim the light_ s,” he started, voice unsure. Tim felt a memory or two tug at his mind. He knew this one.

“ _And sing you songs full of sad things_ ,” Kon continued, a little flat on a note here or there, but Tim wouldn’t change his voice even if it killed him. It was just one of those things that was technically imperfect, but Kon made it beautiful anyway.

“ _We can do a tango just for two_.” Tim murmured, smiling as the lyrics came to him. “ _I can serenade and gently play on your heart strings_.”

Tim wasn’t much of a singer, not bursting full of noise and songs like Kon was. But he was hardly surprised Kon brought that out of him. He brought out a lot in Tim. Mainly the best.

“ _Be your Valentino just for you_.” Kon responded, tone teasing, as he pressed a small kiss to Tim’s neck. Tim felt himself flood with relief and love from head to toe as he poked Kon’s cheek.

He let his fingers skate across Kon’s jaw, and dared to finally, _finally_ , tilt Kon’s face upwards so he could see those _eyes_ , and that slight smile, and _fuck_. He was just so… he was gone, gone, gone for this boy with eyes like a summer sky and a smile that made every star in the sky look dim.

“ _Ooh love_ ,” Tim said softly, leaning in, but pausing. Letting his nose bump Kon’s, asking for permission. “ _ooh, loverboy_.” He whispered, drinking in the way Kon’s eyes widened slightly – he was still so impressed, every single time. It didn’t matter if it was the first time Tim kissed him, the tenth, the hundredth, he would always look so _surprised_ – and then softened as he pressed forward, and kissed him.

And it was like _lightning_ , a wildfire, a storm – a million things that sent thrills down Tim’s spine and made pure _love_ curl up in his chest and rest comfortably in his stomach. It was chaste and soft, about as gentle as a kiss could be. And it made Tim feel like he was glowing from the inside.

Kon pulled away, resting the side of his face against the pillow, and giving Tim that bright ocean stare. How were his eyes somehow both the sky and sea? How did he have galaxies and suns and stars in his eyes, and yet waves and currents and tides flooding them?

No matter how many times Tim got to see inside Kon’s soul, he still had more to give. And Tim was happy to learn.

“I think I’m okay to go back to sleep.” Kon said quietly. “But, um, if it’s okay, could you…?”

“Want me to keep holding you?”

“Yeah.”

Tim nodded, pressing another small kiss to the corner of Kon’s mouth. “Anything for you,” he grinned as he leaned forwards, and let his mouth rest next to Kon’s ear. “ _loverboy_.” He sang gently, which earned him a laugh.

Kon deserved a softer beginning, Tim mused as he felt his boyfriend slowly relax, and drift off again, in his arms. A kinder, softer beginning where he was embraced and held and shown warmth and love instead of broken glass. And Tim couldn’t give him that.

But… Kon’s beginning was over. Kon wasn’t there anymore.

Tim couldn’t make the past hurt less, but he could make _now_ good. And the future even better. And the best part was that Kon would let him.

_Yeah_ , Tim thought, as his thoughts slowed, moving sluggishly as he quickly began to join Kon in blissful slumber. _The future seems pretty alright._

**Author's Note:**

> may i have a kudos if you enjoyed? and if you really liked it, could i trouble you for a comment?
> 
> (the song in this and the song the title is taken from is 'Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy' by Queen)
> 
> <3


End file.
